


Corporate Takeover

by Silencing



Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-03
Updated: 2012-12-03
Packaged: 2017-11-20 05:28:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/581782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silencing/pseuds/Silencing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Damian’s determined to take over his father’s business empire, but he’ll have to negotiate with Tim first.  16-year-old Damian, D/s, roleplay</p>
            </blockquote>





	Corporate Takeover

“These charts are a mess, father. Do you even know what’s going on with the company anymore?”

Damian spread a stack of papers out across the dining room table, shuffling them until they formed a pin-straight grid of numbers and graphs. He’d made notations in the margins in his neat, exacting hand, highlighting in yellow the particularly problematic figures. Though he was only sixteen and barely old enough to (legally) drive, he’d taken charge of his father’s business empire of his own volition, bullying his way into the board room. Bruce had been uncharacteristically indulgent about the whole thing, but perhaps that was because this was a Wayne affair, not Batman’s.

“If I didn’t know better,” Damian continued with as much insolence as he dared, “I’d think you were going senile.”

“Unfortunately for you, that’s not the case,” Bruce replied over a glass of orange juice. “Did you discuss your findings with Lucius, or did you decide to steal all of that data instead?”

“Tt. It’s not stealing if I own the business.”

“Last I checked, I’m still in charge,” Bruce said, a faint edge of warning in his tone despite the half-smile on his face. “You’re welcome to poke around and fix what you think needs fixing, but you’re going to have to go through the proper channels this time.”

Damian regarded him with cool calculation, then shuffled the papers back into a neat stack and turned his attention to the plate of pancakes in the center of the table. “I’m going to need my own office. Top floor, of course. And no one else gets the door code – especially not Drake or Grayson.”

~*~

Dick didn’t much care about Damian’s new office or self-appointment to the head of the family finances, but Tim certainly did. He’d been working quietly with Wayne Enterprise’s big-wigs for years without demanding even a corner office, much less a penthouse suite, and now Damian was crowding him out of his role. To Tim it seemed like pure maliciousness, another excuse to harp on him for being adopted. They’d been fighting about it for weeks, quietly at first and then not so quietly, and Damian had started sleeping in his own bed again.

“Let him help,” Bruce said after yet another explosive shouting match, finally stepping in the way a father ought to. “He knows a lot more about this than you do.”

“And that’s why our finances were such a wreck,” Damian said, folding his arms and scowling. “He doesn’t know anything.”

“He’s a Wayne,” Bruce said with calm patience. “He’s more experienced, and you should show him a little respect. You learned to get along with him on the battlefield – now put some of that cooperation into place in the board room.”

“Fine,” Damian snapped, turning on his heel to stalk away. “I’ll find an appropriate position for him.”

Bruce watched him go, then settled back down to reading his paper. Dick came padding into his study a moment later, looking concerned and amused all at once.

“I’m glad I never had much stake in the family business. The one we run during daylight hours, anyway,” he said, perching on the arm of Bruce’s chair and kneading his fingers into his shoulders to ease some of his tension away. “Damian looked ready to stab someone. I got out of the way just in time.”

Bruce offered him a weary smile and traded the newspaper for Dick, pulling the smaller man into his lap. “I’m sure they’ll fight it out eventually. Damian’s finally learned some humility as Robin. I’m sure he’ll figure this out, too.”

“At least they’re not genuinely trying to kill one another this time,” Dick said, and pressed a soothing kiss to Bruce’s brow. “Maybe Damian will get bored.”

Bruce snorted at that, but didn’t reply. Instead, he found a sudden interest in Dick’s shirt buttons and how quickly he could undo them. For his part, Dick was more than happy to make Bruce forget the conflict for a little while.

~*~

Tim knew he should’ve been wary of Damian’s offer to show him around his new office. He still couldn’t feel anything but jealousy over the matter, but it would’ve been juvenile to tell Damian to fuck off, so he was stuck trying to look happy for him. He knew Damian could see right through his ruse, though, and knew he’d been invited up just so Damian could laugh at him.

“It is nice, isn’t it?” Damian smirked, settling down on a sleek leather sofa backed by floor-to-ceiling windows. The floor was dark hardwood, and simple but clearly expensive carpets muffled Tim’s footfalls as he stalked across the room. The centerpiece of the room was a large, stately desk, no doubt hand-carved to Damian’s specifications. The damn office even had an access hatch to the roof in case Damian wanted to drop by as Robin. 

“Do you do any actual work, or do you just sit around feeling pleased with yourself?” Tim said, not bothering to conceal his jealous anger now that they were out of earshot of the employees. 

“Our numbers are already up,” Damian replied smoothly. “I’ve accomplished more in a month than you have in years, Drake. But I suppose that’s par for the course.”

Tim took a half-second to breathe in through his nose and calculate the angles, then launched himself at Damian, aiming a fist right for his gut. Damian had been anticipating that – hoping for it, even – and countered the blow, hurrying to his feet before Tim could pin him to the couch. 

They sparred back and forth across the office, both careful not to knock over any of the expensive furniture – Tim wasn’t about to disrespect Bruce by causing a mess in the office, even if it was Damian’s. In their professional clothing and without any of their usual gadgets, they were reduced to base fist-fighting, which suited Tim just fine. He was eager to feel his fist connecting with Damian’s body.

As the fighting grew more heated, so did they. Tim struggled to hide this fact from Damian, but to no avail – Damian was feeling it, too. Soon enough, grapples turned to embraces, and they fought with a clash of lips and tongues rather than fists. Tim allowed Damian to push him down onto the couch, but as soon as he did, Tim struggled out from underneath him and got on top of him instead, grabbing and pinning his wrists above his head.

“Stop being such a prick or you’ll have blue balls for a month,” he growled, trying to steady his breathing. He could feel Damian’s erection through his slacks and wanted nothing more than to suck him off – but not until Damian cut him a little slack.

“Fine, Drake, fine! I’ll give you a slice of the action.”

“More than a slice. We’re going to do this as equals, or you can learn to suck your own cock.”

Damian struggled to break free, but when it became apparent that Tim was serious, he finally gave in. “Alright. Partners, then. But you have to get your own office.”

Tim glanced up at the desk in the middle of the room and licked his lips. “Actually, I have a couple of office-sharing ideas I think you’ll like. But if you screw me over,” he added, looking back down at Damian with a glare, “You won’t get to hear about them.”

His interest piqued, Damian rolled his hips up against Tim’s and said, “I’m listening.”

~*~

Despite the size of the desk, it was a tight fit for Tim beneath it. He’d managed, but it left him very little room to move around. That suited Damian just fine – it meant Tim couldn’t even unzip his pants, let alone touch himself. Damian, meanwhile, was sprawled comfortably in his chair, legs splayed, slacks unzipped to allow Tim access to his cock.

“You’d better clean this whole mess up when we’re through,” he murmured, combing his fingers through Tim’s hair as Tim struggled to swallow his cock. Spit and precome ran down his chin and spotted his shirt, dripping on the carpet and streaking the edge of Damian’s leather chair. Damian grasped his chin and pulled him closer, pushing his cock down the back of his throat, holding him still until Tim started choking.

Tim leaned back to suck in a breath, but as soon as he had air in his lungs he pressed forward again, sucking at the tip of Damian’s cock with evident pleasure. He flicked his tongue along the underside and traced the ridge between the head and shaft, then kissed his way down until he couldn’t crane his head any further, smearing precome along his cheek. Damian stroked his hair and let him work, granting him quiet moans of approval.

“I knew I could find you an appropriate position,” he murmured, twisting a lock of Tim’s hair around his finger. “And you really do excel at it.”

Tim rubbed his cheek against Damian’s cock and thigh, then dutifully licked up the mess he’d left on his pants. “Thank you, sir.”

Damian guided Tim’s head by his hair, prompting him to take his cock into his mouth again. He leaned his head back against the chair and moaned at the tight, wet heat of his mouth, rolling his hips in slow, shallow thrusts. “We have a guest coming up,” he said, his voice remarkably steady, “And I expect you to be a good boy when he arrives.”

Though Tim knew he was completely hidden by the front of the desk, he still shuddered in embarrassment at the thought of being caught with Damian’s cock in his mouth. Lips swollen, cheeks flushed, he made quite a sight, as well. He wondered if Damian would trot him out in front of their guest – secretly, shamefully, he hoped so.

Damian made Tim back off a little, giving his head a small shake every time he got too eager. He wanted to last until their guest arrived – no sense in doing this if he’d already come down Tim’s throat. He hoped the man would be punctual. Even with his impressive stamina, Damian didn’t know how long he could last.

He needn’t have worried, though. Right on schedule, they both heard bootsteps from the hall outside the office, and then a heavy knock at the door. Damian had given their guest the passcode, and called out, “Come in,” without bothering to rise from the desk. 

Tim heard the click of the door lock, then heavy booted feet crossing the room. Their guest tossed something heavy – a duffel bag, probably – onto the floor, then sat down in the chair opposite Damian’s. The creak of the leather as he settled in gave Tim goosebumps.

“Thank you for coming,” Damian said, keeping his tone smooth and even despite Tim’s mouth on his cock. “I trust you had no trouble getting into the building.”

“Not with the Bat-hatch on the roof,” the man replied, and Tim shuddered with guilty desire when he realized it was Jason. Damian had promised him someone safe – Tim wasn’t sure Jason quite qualified, but he wasn’t going to complain.

“Nice digs you have here, baby Bats,” Jason said. “And I bet you have all kinds of amenities.”

“You have no idea. Would you like to see?”

Jason rose from the chair, and Tim heard him unzip his fly, and couldn’t stop himself from moaning around Damian’s cock. 

“Well, what do you know. This must be the delux suite.” Jason chuckled, peering down at Tim from over Damian’s shoulder. Tim could just see that he had his cock in his hand and was stroking himself.

“You’re welcome to try him out, once I’ve finished with him,” Damian said. “You’ll have to wash him up afterwards, though – I don’t want to come back to your filthy germs.”

Jason laughed and patted him on the shoulder, then fixed Tim with a hungry, predatory grin. “You’re a model of generosity, Mr. Wayne. I’ll be sure to treat your toys right.”


End file.
